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RHYMES 

OF THE 

ROOKIES 

WE. CHRISTIAN 





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CDPYR5GHT DEPOSED 



RHYMES OF THE ROOKIES 



To the Colors 



Here's to the Red of the Firing Line; 
Here's to a World White-Free; 
Here's to the Blue of the Yankee Sign; 
Here's to Liberty! 

— W. E. C 



&f)2>me* of tfje &oofet*0 



SUNNY SIDE OF 
SOLDIER SERVICE 



W. E. CHRISTIAN 



NEW YORK 

BoUb, jWeab antr Companp 
1917 



^> 



Copyright. 1917, 
By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. 



/ 

SEP 25 1917 
©GU473878 
*%^0 f 



To 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT 

Colonel of the Rough Riders 

Who, more than any other one man 

gives out 

The Spirit and the Meaning 

of the 

AMERICAN SOLDIER 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

MY BUNKIE i 

OUR OFFICERS 4 

PAY DAY 6 

THE ARMY GROUCH 8 

WEANING TIME 10 

"HANDS ACROSS THE SEA" 12 

THE HIKE 14 

A-B-C OF ARMY LIFE 16 

A SOLDIER'S PRIMER 19 

THE TALE AND WAIL OF A ROOKIE. 20 

A MARINE'S HYMN 23 

HERE'S TO THE SIXTEENTH 25 

HIKING IN THE PHILIPPINES 28 

THE MOUNTAIN BATTERY SONG.... 32 

THE CAVALRY SONG 34 

THE RED GUIDON 37 

THE CONSCRIPT 39 

THE SLACKER 42 

PREPAREDNESS 44 

"BEANS" 46 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ADVICE 49 

THE SCENT OF THE COCOA 51 

MEN OF THE HOSPITAL CORPS 54 

GARRISON LIFE 55 

THE PHILIPPINITIS 57 

THE EAST IS A-CALLING 58 

TELL YOUR TROUBLES TO THE COR- 
PORAL OF THE GUARD 60 

GENERAL ORDERS OF THE KITCHEN 

POLICE 62 

IS HE A SOREHEAD? 64 

FUNSTON 67 

YEAR 2016 IN CHIHUAHUA 69 

WITH PERSHING IN MEXICO %;. 71 

OLD BALDY 74 

"KAISER BILL" 78 

THE RAW RECRUIT 80 

SERVING IN TEXAS 82 

O'REILLY'S GONE TO HELL 84 

ON THE "BORDER" 86 

ROUTINE 89 

THE UNIFORM 93 

IN THE COLD GRAY DAWN OF THE 

MORNING AFTER 95 

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE POSTER. . 98 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ARMY FEVER 102 

ONE TO THE ARMY BEAN 104 

LITTLE THINGS 106 

SING-A-SONG-A-SIXPENCE 107 

QUEEN OF MAY 108 

A YOUNG ROOKIE'S LAMENT in 

DANNY DEEVER BALLAD 114 

PUZZY LAPPINS 118 

A CYNIC'S VIEW OF ARMY LIFE 121 

THE SONG OF THE SHOVEL AND THE 
PICK 124 



ARMY SLANG 127 

ENGLISH ARMY SLANG 134 

WORDS TO THE ARMY TRUMPET 

CALLS 137 

FIRST AID IN CASE OF ACCIDENTS.. 140 

FRENCH MONEY 144 

ENGLISH MONEY 144 



RHYMES OF THE ROOKIES 



MY BUNKIE 

He's mostly gnarls and freckles and tan, 
He'd surely come under society's ban, 
He's a swearin', fightin' cavalryman, 
But — he's my bunkie. 

He's weathered the winds of the Western 
waste. 

(You, gentle Christian, would call him de- 
based) 

And hfe's loved at his ease and married in 
haste, 

Has my bunkie. 

In a Philippine paddy he's slept in the rain, 
When he's drunk rotten booze that drives 

you insane, 
And he's often court-martialed — yes, over 

again, 

Is my bunkie. 

He's been on the booze the whole blooming 

night, 
To mount guard next morning most 

awfully tight, 



MY BUNKIE 

Though he's "dressed" like a soldier when 
given "Guide Right," 

He's my bunkie. 

He doesn't know Browning or Ibsen or 

Keats, 
But he knows mighty well when the other 

man cheats 
And he licks him and makes him the laugh 

of the streets, 

Does my bunkie. 

He stands by and cheers when I'm having 

fun, 
And when it is over says, "Pretty well 

done," 
But he takes a large hand if they rush two 

to one, 

For — he's my bunkie. 

When Taps has blown and all the troop is 

asleep, 
We nudge each other and gingerly creep, 
To where the shadows hang heavy and 

deep, 

I and my bunkie. 

M 



MY BUNKIE 

And then when the fire-flies flittering roam, 
We sit close together out there in the 

gloam, 
And talk about things appertaining to 

home, 

I and my bunkie. 

If the slow tropic fever is a-shaking my 

spine, 
And they blow "boots and saddles" to chase 

the brown swine, 
He'll give me a leg-up and ride me in line, 
Will my bunkie. 

And if I get hit — his arm goes around, 
And raises me tenderly off of the ground, 
And the words on his lips are a comforting 
sound, 

The words of my bunkie. 



[3] 



OUR OFFICERS 

I'm goin' to be discharged, sir; 

My time is near its close, 

I want to tell you, cap'en, 

You're the best the country grows. 

They ain't no man in all the world 

Can beat the army man, 

That wears the shiny leggins and 

That does the best he can. 

I've seen them, sir, in battle 

With the bullets flyin' round, 

I've seen them lying wounded 

With the blood-stains on the ground. 

I've watched them when the fever 

Was a-ragin' in the camp, 

I've seen them nurse the cholera — 

A-wrestling with the cramp. 

I've seen them pin to that ol' flag 
Another glory more, 
That made the stripes look brighter 
Than they ever did before. 



OUR OFFICERS 

They weren't winning V.C.'s, either, 
But because the country said 
For them to go, they went. 
They done it or they're dead. 

We've lots of men of this kind an* 
Of course, we've some that ain't, 
We'll cover up their faces 
In the picture that we paint. 
I'll follow men like you, sir; 
You can't go too fast an' far, 
You're officers and gentlemen 
Like Congress says you are. 

I wish I could re-up, sir, 

Till you get your silver stars, 

I'm sure you'll do them credit, sir, 

As you have done the bars. 

I know I shouldn't talk so much, 

But somehow I'm inclined, 

On leavin' the old outfit 

Just to speak the company's mind. 



[5] 



PAY DAY 

Oh, it's early in the morning, 
The mules begin to squeal, 
You hear the cooks a'bangin' pans 
To get the mornin' meal; 
The Bugler, sort o' toodlin, 
Outside the Colonel's tent, 
And you kind o' feel downhearted, 
'Cause your last two bits is spent. 

With a leggin-string you're fussin' 
When the band begins to play, 
And you listen, and stop cussin', — 
What is that the bugles say? 
Oh, it's pay-day, pay-day, pay-day, 
And the drums begin to roll, 
And they sure do carry music 
To the busted Johnnie's soul. 

Some think about the girls they'll get, 
And some, about the beer; 
Some say they'll send their money home, 
And all begin to cheer. 
[6] 



PAY DAY 

The games will soon be gom* 
Snap your fingers at the dice; 
With the canteen spigots flowing 
'Til the Barkeep's out of ice. 

For it's pay-day, pay-day, pay-day; 
Can't you hear the bugles call? 
The privates and the Non-Coms, 
The officers and all 
Have been waitin', waitin', waitin', 
'Til they're broke or badly bent 
For the coins stacked up on blankets 
And table in a tent. 

Fifteen dollars in the mornm* 

By the evenin' in the hole; 

And "Private Jones is absent, Sir," 

When the Sergeant calls the roll. 

The officers are lookin' up 

The "Articles of War"; 

There's sixteen in the guard-house, 

And the Provost has some more. 



[7] 



THE ARMY GROUCH 

When the Grouch gets up at reveille, 
He puts his elbow on his knee; 
His head upon his hand; 
And tho' he's slept ten hours or more, 
His back is weak, his feet are sore, 
And he can hardly stand. 
And, as he goes to get his chow, 
He says, "By Gosh ! — I don't see how 
A soldier lives so long. 
The spuds is rotten and the slum 
Is always worse than on the bum. 
The coffee is too strong. 
That cow was killed ten years before 
They organized this bloomin' war; 
These flapjacks taste like wood/' 
And so he growls through all the day, 
And fills his comrades with dismay; 
They'd kill him if they could. 
When "First Call" wakes up Billy Lott, 
He sits upon his Army cot, 
And whistles "Casey Jones," 
And as he jumps into his shoes, 
[8] 



TH£ ARMY GROUCH 

He says, "By Jinks I've had a snooze 
That's good for skin and bones." 
And Billy always has a smile 
That you can see for half a mile, 
And when he stops to say, 'How DoF 
He chases dimples to your cheeks 
That stay there for a couple of weeks, 
And he makes you happy too. 



[9] 



WEANING TIME 

(To A. W. D.) 

Mothers, O, ye mothers of the land! 
With broods of sisters, brothers — hand in 

hand — 
Tis weaning time. Clip ye the thread 
That apron-strings the lad! Give him his 

head! 
Pluck from your teat the clinging lip 
That should be tight with valor's grip! 
"You were my child-in-arms," she said; 
"Suckled I you, and gave you bed; 
But now you are my man, my son. 
For battle lost or battle won, 
Go, find your captain ; take your gun, 
To stand with France against the Hun! 
Reck not that tears might wet your crib; 
Nor fear my fondling of the bib 
You wore — when you are gone. 
Your mother will not be alone; 
Her love-mate will be Duty Done: 
Her nights will kiss that midnight sun. 
If tears? They will be tears of joy, 

[10] 



WEANING TIME 

For having milked a man, my boy. 
Farewell and live, heart of my heart. 
God steel my soul! I bid you start! 

He goes! 

God knows 
I idol him. And may no backward glance 
Unheart me now. To France ! To France ! 
Fair France of La Fayette's romance. 
My man-in-arms advance, advance ! 
Take down your grand-sire's crimsoned 

lance ! 
For man-wide Freedom and for France!" 



["] 



"HANDS ACROSS THE SEA" 

We're off for France to make "Fritz" dance 

To the tune of shot and shell. 
We'll march right in to old Berlin, 

And give the Kaiser hell. 

The French are right — they'll hold the 
fight, 

And British "drives" are fine; 
But Pershing's boys will find but toys 

In the "Hindenberger" Line. 

We leave hearts dear — the coast we clear 
For the ocean's wide expanse. 

A submarine on the ocean seen 
Will have but little chance. 

The cause is just — yet more we trust — 

For the Honor debt we owe 
Can ne'er be paid. 'Twas the timely aid 

Of the Frenchman long ago. 

For Lafayette is with us yet, 

Still held in memory dear. 
Our hearts now burn to give return, 

While his name we all revere. 

[12] 



ACROSS THE SEA" 



Oh ! we're off to France — we want a chance 

At the ecstatic thrill 
Of being there to have a share 

In the funeral of "Kaiser Bill." 



[13] 



THE HIKE 

The orders are, "Prepare to hike !" 
So pack your war bag. Hit the pike. 
Throw back your shoulders — keep the step, 
For this is where we get the pep. 

"Prepare to hike/' the orders are. 
And don't you dare to ask how far. 
We'll get what's coming, don't you see? 
So what's the odds to you and me? 

Prepare to hike! Roll up your kit. 
Strap on equipment. Hit the Grit. 
Your corns will ripen on the road, — 
Just pare them down when taps are 
"blowed." 



We're billed to hike — the bugles blow. 
" 'Tis column right" and off you go. 
Civilians watch as we pass by — 
We watch the girlies wink the eye. 

[14] 



the: hike; 

Prepardness is the slogan now, 
And rumor says there'll be a row — 
A real one on the Western Front. 
We're drilling for this special stunt. 

Prepare to hike! Get in the game. 
Your feet get sore, but don't go lame, 
Just set your jaws, with stiffened lip, 
And hold the lines with sand and "zip." 

War may be "Hell." So let it be. 
Yet, must be fought, if liberty 
Is still to reign upon her throne, — 
Else all is lost. The best is gone. 

Prepare to hike ! Once more I say. 
Round out your muscles for the fray. 
Life's not worth living any more, 
Should Teuton force invade our shore. 



[15] 



A-B-C-OF ARMY LIFE 

A is the ARMY, 

With its shot, and its shell, 
B is the BATTLE 

That makes the War, Hell. 
C is the CAVALRY, 

Dashing and Bold, 
D is the "DOUGHBOY," 

Whom the trenches must hold; 
E, ENGINEER, 

Who lays out the plot, 
F the "FIRST AID," 

With stretcher and cot; 
G is the "GUARD," 

Our "Border-Patrol"— 
H is HEADQUARTERS, 

The high-ranking role. 
I is the INFANTRY, 

That's hot on the Hike, 
J is JAW-BONE, 

Oh, "Pay-as-you-like" ; 
K is the KITCHEN, 

Where they turn out the "stew," 
[16] 



A-B-C Otf ARMY U#3 

L is LANCE-CORPORAL, 

Who ranks just a few; 
M is the MESS, 

Where the rations are served, 
N is "NON-COM," 

Whose "Stripes" are deserved; 
O is the OFFICER, 

"Spick and so span," 
P is the PRISONER, 

Who's "under the ban," 
Q is the QUARTERS, 

With "lights out at Taps," 
R is the ROOKIE, 

Whom everyone raps, 
S is the SERGEANT, 

Who keeps 'em in line, 
T is TATTOO, 

Three-quarters past nine, 
U is the UNIFORM, 

Buttons so bright, 
V is the VOLLEY, 

That settles the Fight; 
W the WAGON, 

With "four Army mules," 
[17] 



A-B-C OF ARMY UF£ 

X the eX-soldier, 

Whose ardor now cools, 
Y is the YOUNGSTER, 

Just out of the "Point," 
Z - — can't you tell 

This line's out-of- joint? 



[18] 



A SOLDIER'S PRIMER 

A man, a hat, a blouse, a gun, 
Call this a soldier just for fun. 
A dog tent, blanket, candle, match, 
His home is built with rare dispatch ; 
With hard tack, bacon, army beans, 
Army life is not what it seems. 
A damp cold night, aching head, 
The next day fever-soldier dead. 
The story is brief (we know it well), 
And plain is moral — "War is Hell." 



[19] 



THE TALE AND WAIL OF A 
ROOKIE 

When I was young I said to myself, 
Choose a career and start after the pelf, 
Early to bed and early to rise, 
You're sure to get wealthy and awfully 

wise, 
So I started out to look around, 
But nice fat jobs weren't easily found. 

However, while taking a walk down the 

street, 
A bright colored poster my eyes did greet, 
"Young Men Wanted." I said, "That's 

me," 
And stepped up closer so I could see. 
"Join the Army and see the World," 
My fingers around my last dollar were 

curled. 

So I went around where they hung out the 

flag, 
But that 7-year hitch made my interest lag. 
[20] 



the; tai,e and wail of a rookie 

They explained it, however, and made it 

quite plain 
That to join the Army would be my gain. 
So here I am in the damn Philippines, 
They feed me nothing but bacon and beans. 

The land of the goo-goo is no place for me, 
The reason porque is easy to see. 
I never was strong for bugs and lizards, 
Or the amoebic bug that tickles your giz- 
zards. 
I have a reverse on fleas and snakes, 
And I hate the noise the Gekko makes. 

I have three square feet of prickly heat, 
And some dhobie itch that can't be beat, 
I've had the dengue and also the fever, 
Of all diseases I've been the receiver. 
I'm bitten by all that's invented to bite us, 
At the end of the year I'll have Philippin- 
itis. 

A long centipede just crawled in my bunk, 
This tropical service is certainly punk, 
Not a chance in the world to go over the 
hill, 

[21] 



the: tale; and wail of a rookie 

And half my time is spent in the mill. 
But why should I worry, I'll soon be free. 
A "G. C. M." does the trick for me. 



[22] 



A MARINE'S HYMN 

From the Halls of Montezuma, 

To the shores of Tripoli, 
We fight our country's battles 

On the land as on the sea. 
First to fight for right and freedom 

And to keep our honor clean, 
We are proud to claim the title 

Of United States Marine. 

From the Pest Hole of Cavite 

To the ditch at Panama, 
You will find them very needy 

Of Marines — that's what we are; 
We're watch dogs of a pile of coal 

Or we dig a magazine, 
Tho' he lends a hand at every job, 

Who would not be a Marine? 

Our flag's unfurled to every breeze 
From dawn to setting sun, 

We have fought in every clime or place 
Where we could take a gun; 

[23] 



A MARINES HYMN 

In the snow of far off northern lands 
And in sunny tropic scenes, 

You will find us always on the job — 
The United States Marines. 

Here's health to you and to our corps 

Which we are proud to serve, 
In many a strife we have fought for life 

And never lost our nerve; 
If the army and the navy 

Ever look on heaven's scenes, 
They will find the streets are guarded by 

The United States Marines. 



[24] 



HERE'S TO THE SIX- 
TEENTH! 

(A toast by an officer at San Antonio 
banquet.) 

Here's to the "Sixteenth Cavalry," 
A "Colt" that has just been foaled ; 

Bred with no "Past," — but a Future, 
Which Training and Time will unfold. 

This "Colt," with his milk-teeth gives 
promise 

Of growing to be some fine horse, 
And if we give him "right raising," 

Be sure that he'll "come across." 

Our "Colt" is as "sound" and as "quiet" 

As any old horse you will see, 
And, as for his "fit conformation," — 

That's just as fine as can be. 

Here's hoping that he gets good "groom- 
ing," 

[25] 



here's to the sixteenth! 

Good "grazing" — good "stable" — good 
"stall;" 
So when they sound "Boots and Saddles," 
The "Colt" can answer their call. 

Here's hoping that he gets good "forage," 
Well "watered"— with "all-fours" well 
cleaned ; 

And not have to patrol the hot Border, — 
At least, — until he is "weaned." 

We'll swear by this "Colt," who is "hoof- 
marked" 
With the "16th Cavalry" brand ; 
And we'll warrant when he "cuts his mo- 
lars," 
He'll be as good as the best in the land. 

We'll see that he gets fearless riders, 
Who are "kindly" and know every "aid ;" 

So if ever a battle is brewing, 

He'll go to the "Charge" unafraid. 

He'll compare with all Cavalry horses, 
No "I. C." marks for his neck; 

[26] 



here's to the sixteenth! 

Instead, upon his new brow-band 
Rosetted Blue Ribbons bedeck. 



No matter the "sire," no matter the "dam," 
His "strain" is "pure-blood"— tho "un- 
registered" yet; 
He'll "run in the money," — when put to the 
test, 
To "win in the stretch," — on that you can 
bet. 

So here's to the "Sixteenth Cavalry," 
The youngest of Cavalry "mounts ;" 

He hasn't a "Past" and a "Pedigree," 
But 's "all-horse," — and that is what 
counts ! 



[27] 



HIKING IN THE 
PHILIPPINES 

(From a Marine's Diary) 
(a one-day hike) 

Rise and Shine, the bugle's calling I 
Spring up lively from your beds ! 

Into line we'll soon be falling — 
Shake a leg, you sleepy heads! 

Better make a hasty toilet, 

Like the other fellows do, 
For I'll guarantee you'll spoil it, 

Long before the day is thru ! 

Better see the shoes you're wearing 
Have a heavy pair of soles; 

Or you'll do some awful swearing 
When the rocks come thru the holes ! 

Have your canteen filled and ready 
Haversack swung on your belt, 

Where it will swing good and steady 
And its weight is scarcely felt! 

[28] 



hiking in the; Philippines 

At your breakfast don't you hurry — 
Eat another dish of beans; 

For you'll need it — don't you worry — 
Hiking in the Philippines! 

Up the dusty road we've started — 
Rout Step — walking at our ease; 

Soon the even lines are parted — 
All are walking as they please. 

Long before the sun has ambled 
O'er the green hills on our right, 

Far along the road we've rambled 
In the early morning light. 

Thru the narrow trail we're walking, 
Sticking to the narrow path. 

Just behind us some are talking, 
'Way ahead we hear a laugh. 

Now a slender bridge we're crossing, 
Over to a "goo-goo" farm — 

Where a Carabao is tossing 
Up his head, in great alarm. 

[29] 



HIKING IN THE) PHILIPPINES 

Here we stop to rest a trifle — 
Sip a drop from our canteens. 

Gee ! It's tough to "pack" a rifle — 
Hiking in the Philippines. 

'Round the narrow path we're turning ; 

Tho it's early morning, yet. 
Down the sun is fiercely burning — 

Bringing out the drops of sweat ! 

Where the tropic trees are shading 

Out the sunlight overhead 
Leggings, shoes and all, we're wading 

Thru a shallow river-bed. 

You can hear the bamboo cracking 
Underneath our heavy tread, 

While the forest trails we're tackling — 
Following, where we are lead. 

You have got to be a Hiker 

To keep up with these Marines, 

Not a big four-flush or piker — 
Hiking in the Philippines ! 

[30] 



HIKING IN THE PHILIPPINES 

Where the big mangoes are growing, 
We have halted — Stacking Arms, 

Far away, a rooster's crowing 
On one of the native farms. 

Under branches of big palm trees, 
We are resting easy now — 

Welcoming the cooling sea breeze 
While we're waiting for our Chow. 

Plainest fare is a fiesta 

When you've Hiked for half a day ; 
And a little noon siesta 

Helps to pass the time away ! 

Like a ribbon all unraveled 

Starts the line at half past two, 

There are new trails to be traveled 
Back to old Olongapo! 



[3i] 



THE MOUNTAIN BATTERY 
SONG 



Fall in. Fall in. Attention, you red-legged 

mountaineers, 
With your gun and pack and box of tack, 

"non-coms." and cannoneers, 
Baptized in Mindanao, beside the Sulu Sea. 
Here's How, and How, how, how, 

to a mountain battery. 

Here's How, and How, how, how, 

to a mountain battery. 



2. 



I'd rather be a soldier with a mule and 

mountain gun 
Than a Knight of old with spurs of gold, 

a Roman, Greek or Hun, 
For when there is trouble brewing they al- 
ways send for me 

To start the row with a row, row, 
row, 

[32] 



THE) MOUNTAIN BATTERY SONG 

from a mountain battery. 
To start the row with a row, row, 
row, 
from a mountain battery. 

Here's to pack and aparejo, the cradle, 

gun trail, 
And that darned old fool, the battery mule, 

that was never known to fail. 
So raise your glasses high and drink this 
toast with me: 

Here's How, and How, how, how, 

to a mountain battery. 

Here's How, and How, how, how, 

to a mountain battery. 



[33] 



THE CAVALRY SONG 

Come, listen unto this song, I'm as happy 

as can be, 
I'm masher and dasher in the U. S. Cav- 

alrie ; 
I stand up straight with legs apart ; bowed 

slightly at the knee, 
With folded arms across my chest, 'tis the 

pose of the Cavalrie. 

Chorus : 
So fill your glasses to the brim 

And brace your courage with slow gin, 
I will tell you all it is a sin 

To serve in the Infantrie. 

I'm a cavalryman so fierce and bold, a sol- 
dier thru and thru, 

I ride a horse because of course 'tis the 
proper thing to do. 

I wear my spurs both night and day that 
every one may see. 

Whatever else I might have been, I'm not 
in the Infantrie. 

[34] 



TH£ CAVALRY SONG 

We went to fight the China horde with 

sabre, horse and gun. 
We'd meet them and we'd beat them just 

the way it should be done; 
But we left our horses, corn and hay out 

on the ships in Taku Bay 
And consequently had to stay while the 

dough boys hiked away. 



I'm a man of experience, I've been to Fort 

Monroe, 
I've garrisoned Fort Hamilton and the 

Presidio. 
I went out to the Philippines and in the 

Walled Citie. 
I fought the Filipino War in the Coast 

Artillerie. 



Chorus : 
So make way for the red stripe man, 

The pride of our armee 
And let him tell the glories of 

The Coast Artillerie. 

[35] 



THE CAVALRY SONG 

About another soldier man I'd like to say 

a word : 
He's neither fish nor flesh nor fowl, but 

he is a bird, 
He finds his way o'er foreign seas by sun 

and moon and star, 
But he could not find his way across the 

Island of Samar. 

Chorus : 
So make way for the web- foot man 

The good U. S. Marines. 
They need four guides for every man, 

Out in the Philippines. 



[36] 



THE RED GUIDON 

Come, fill up your glasses. I'll give you a 

toast. 
We'll drink to the red and the blue, 
The first in the battle, the last from its post, 
Old comrades so faithful and true. 
Here's to friends who have passed o'er the 

last long divide, 
Their spirit is still marching on, 
As it did in the days when we marched 

side by side 
As we followed the red guidon. 

Chorus : 
Then here's to the crossed cannons, they 

never will run, 
The limber and rolling caisson, 
The clank of the collar and rumble of gun 
As we follow the red guidon. 

We've soldiered together, brave hearts ever 

true, 
We've marched, we have fought and we've 

bled 
For the dear old flag with its red, white 

and blue 
That floats in the breeze overhead. 

[37] 



TH3 R£D GUIDON 

We've joked and we've laughed around the 

camp fire's red glare 
From Cuba to distant Luzon, 
As we told the old stories that drive away 

care 
'Neath the folds of the red guidon. 

Come, toss off your tankards, we'll drink 

long and deep, 
Brave hearts ever gallant and true, 
To friends who now rest in their long 

peaceful sleep, 
Who once wore the red and blue. 
We'll prove true in the future as they in 

the past, 
Old comrades of gun and caisson; 
We'll fight like true soldiers from first to 

the last 
As we follow the red guidon. 

Chorus : 
Then here's to the crossed cannons, they 

never will run, 
Here's the limber and rolling caisson, 
The clank of the collar and rumble of gun 
And Hurrah for the Red Guidon ! 

[38] 



THE CONSCRIPT 

"Life is real ; life is earnest" — but a Gamble 
after all, 
"Ten million Conscripts" are answering 
the Call; 
Ten million men of which I am One — 
What were the "odds" when "the wheel 
was spun"? 
What were the "odds" that Fate would se- 
lect 
Me for a Conscript — another reject? 
Fate was the Gambler; I was a "chip," 
Death was the "stake" held in Life's 
grip; 
I am a Conscript played in Fate's hand, 
When the Game's over — how will I 
stand ? 
Death, will it lose, or Life, will it win, 
Who'll be the "winner" at the great 
"Cash-in"? 
Ten million Conscripts to answer the Call, 
And at the gusts, the leaves must fall : 

[39] 



THE CONSCRIPT 

With submarines launching torpedoes be- 
low, 
Which troop ship to atoms are they to 
blow ? 
Ghosts of disease lurking in camp, 

Spectral sickness in trenches so damp; 
Ten million bullets ripping the air, 
Which Conscript to be stricken, and 
when and where? 
Ten million shrapnel shrieking o'er head, 
Which Conscript to reckon among their 
dead? 
Thousands of wounds, a-gaping and wide, 
Who will recover, and who will have 
died? 
Millions of mothers so anxious at home, 
Who will wear crepe for loved ones, 
alone ? 
Millions of sweethearts who'll weep o'er 
the "lists," 
Which lovers the lips ne'er more to be 
kissed ? 
All is a Gamble — this War-Game of 
Chance — 
The life of a Conscript over in France. 
[4o] 



TH£ conscript 

The "Roulette of Life" is spinning so fast, 
The "red ball of Death" must drop in at 
last; 
Which numbers will win, which numbers 
will lose, 
The "odds" or the "evens," the "reds" 
or the "blues"? 
Yet Hope is the "Banker" and He will 
repay 
The chances that Conscripts must take in 
the fray; 
And Fate's a Good sport, when "dealing the 
cards," 
He'll give "Fifty-fifty" to Conscript for 
odds. 



[41] 



THE SLACKER 

Why don't he volunteer to serve 
In Uncle Sammy's grand reserve? 
He knows quite well his ountry's call; 
Has no regard for this, at all. 
He never thinks to do his part, 
Because he has a Slacker's heart. 

He walks along the street quite spry— 
To feign indifference he must try, 
When suddenly he takes affright, 
It's just a picture (what a sight) 
Of Uncle Sam with pointing finger. 
Take it from me! He doesn't linger. 

"Why don't you do it? do it quick!" 

The Slacker's skull is very thick. 

It never penetrates the gray, 

What Uncle Sammy, has to say. 

"I want you NOW!" Oh, what a Mutt. 

The words fall on a brainless nut. 

He lied on registration day — 
Conscription's law he'll not obey. 

[42] 



TH£ SLACKER 

He seeks the nuptial vows to take, 
Or any other useless fake. 
Whatever else, he'll never fight. 
He has the Slacker's ear-marks right. 

Oh, what a useless, shameless pest, 
A blot on human kind at best. 
His feelings are for SELF alone. 
He would not give a dog the bone. 
Behold his attitude — his pose. 
The Slacker's ring is in his nose. 

For country's call — for country's sake — 

For Liberty he will not stake 

His bit, nor will he ever be 

But half a man. Not he — not he. 

His formula contains no sand — 

It's plain, he is the Slacker "Brand." 

A sneak — a snake — a cur — a blasted 
Dirty rotten scourge, dodgasted 
Coward, thief, and all the rest — 
Can't spell the name that suits the best. 
There's just one place for such as he — 
Not on the earth — eternity. 

[43] 



PREPAREDNESS 

I never had no warlike mind, 

I b'long to the plowin' peaceful kind 
Thet stays at home and works along, 

Sun to sun — I'm good and strong — 
But, neighbor, let me speak my mind: 

When my country sez to back her, 
Sez I back: "Here ain't no slacker," 

So walks up thar and signs the roll, 
Come June the first, thirty-one year ole, 

Now Uncle Sammy can call Bill Jones 
Jest any ole time they say, 

'Cause yisterday I gits insured, 
And jined the church today. 

I hates to leave the old home-folks, 

They hates to see me go, 
But I'd rather tote a rifle, 

Than be shoulderin' a hoe. 
When Uncle Sammy's needin' men — 

And needin' 'em so much, 
I 'lows how he can call on Bill, 

To help 'im lick them Dutch. 

[44] 



PREPAREDNESS 

For preacher sez : "God will protect 
Me out thar," so, then, by Heck! 

I am all O. K. 

'Cause yisterday I gits insured, 

And jined the church today. 

The paper 'lows the fightin's bad, 

As awful as can be — 
Guns a-roarin' — blood a-flowin' — 

And boats belo' thet sea. 
But I'm ready — and I ain't a-feered 

To die — if they do git me. 
'Cause I ain't no skunking slacker, 

If I am a "Georgia cracker," 
And if I don't come home no more, 

The wolf won't come to my house door, 
I am goin' when they say, 

'Cause yisterday I gits insured, 
And jined the church today. 



[45] 



"BEANS" 

A dog there lived in many towns, 
And he has wondrous wiles; 

He travels in the Philippines, 
And visits many isles. 

"Ubiquitous" should be his name, 
He's seen so many scenes, 

But all his soldier friends prefer 
To call him simply : "Beans" ! 

As a proper, first class passenger, 
Is "Beans" name on ship's log; 

You'd think his name was pedigreed- 
The way he "puts on dog" ! 

Yet he is not a full blood pup, 

But just a "yellow cur": 
A "Nervy-Natty Gentleman" — 

With all his fuzzy fur. 

He chows awhile at Grande Isle; 

And there he'll make a stay, 
Until he tires of their mess; 

Then promptly sails away. 

[46] 



"b£ans" 

He'll take a boat down Subic Bay, 

To far Olongapo, 
And when things get monotonous, 

Then "Beans" is prompt-to-go ! 

He goes o'er to Corregidor, 

And visits "C. A. C." 
And if he don't like visiting — 

He merely sails the sea! 

He visits Fort McKinley, 

And Cavite, too; 
Now, where Beans has not been, forsooth, 

I wish I only knew. 

I know that all the sailors, 

And all the soldier men 
Do call him "Beans," and love him 

For he is their dandy friend. 

He wags his tail in greeting, 
And barks at friends with joy; 

But when his ship's a-sailing, 
For Beans, it's Ship-A-hoy! 

[47] 



"beans' 



So here's to "Beans" old "Sea-dog," 
Who loves so well to roam; 

I wish he'd try to settle down 
And make our place his home. 



[48] 



ADVICE 

Better start in soldiering and mind your 

P's and Q's, 
Cut out going absent and ease up on the 

booze, 
Don't kick because, you're on fatigue, but 
mind what you are about, 

For the Summary Court will get you 
if 

you 

don't 

watch 
out. 

Don't go a-missing reveille; and be in bed 

by check, 
Don't buck against the captain, or you'll 

get it in the neck. 
Be sure to turn out promptly when you 
hear the sergeant shout, 

For the Summary Court will get you 
if 

you 

don't 

watch 
out. 
[49] 



ADVICE 

Because you've got some service don't 

think you know it all, 
You'll get your extras just the same if 

you should miss a call. 
Take what they hand you weekly. Don't 
grumble, frown or pout. 

For the Summary Court will get you 
if 

you 

don't 

watch 
out. 



[50] 



THE SCENT OF THE COCOA 

You have heard of the ancient incense; 

Of the dew of Hermann you've read ; 
You have been told of the precious oint- 
ment 

That poured down on Aaron's head ; 
But tell me — with all your knowledge, 

Your theory, study and toil, 
Have you heard of an equal or sequel 

To the scent of the cocoanut oil? 

At first it is always repulsive, 

Makes you gag and back off in despair; 
But when you've got the scent of the cocoa, 

Just a scent, a mere whiff in the air, 
Then you're gone, boy, yes, and forever, 

Where'er in this world you may roam; 
When you once get the scent of the cocoa 

You forget all the precepts of home. 

You forget those most noble teachings 
Of fortitude, temperance and truth 

When you once get the scent of the cocoa. 
You're gone, boy, gone and forsooth 

[5i] 



TH£ SCENT OF THE COCOA 

Though you try hard and strive to recover, 
Pray to God and his angels as well, 

If you've once got the scent of the cocoa 
You're destined — your future is Hell. 



But why should you be predestined 

By the scent of an innocent oil? 
When you once get the scent of the cocoa 

No more can you break from its toil 
Than a gambler can break from his ven- 
tures, 

The drunkard turn away from his rye. 
When you once get the scent of the cocoa 

The longing is there till you die. 



The great world at large doesn't know all, 

The guilty ones seldom confess 
When you once get the scent of the cocoa 

Wafted up from the bright passing dress 
That their thoughts are not those of angels 

Sweet and pure as the dew of the rose, 
That it's not just the scent of the cocoa 

But the perquisite that with it goes. 

[52] 



the: scsnt of the: cocoa 

There are times when the righteous are 
doubtful, 

There are times when no man doubts. 
When you once get the scent of the cocoa 

There's a man and his conscience at 
outs; 
Reckless of moral destruction, 

Fearless of anguish and pain, 
When you once get the scent of the cocoa 

'Tis that scent that you long for again. 

One may part from the Orient gladly, 

From its garlic and dhobie and goats ; 
But if he's once got the scent of the cocoa 

As he sits and in reverie dotes, — 
His thoughts will revert to the eastward, 

To the land of yellow and brown 
And he sighs for the scent of the cocoa, 

And the sight of a pina gown. 



[S3] 



MEN OF THE HOSPITAL 
CORPS 

They, too, have heard the drum-beat, 
They follow the bugle's call, 
Those who are swift with pity 
On the field where brave men fall. 

When the battle boom is silent 
And the echoing thunder dies, 
They haste to the plain, red sodden 
With the blood of sacrifice. 

The flag that floats above them 
Is marked with a crimson sign, 
Pledge of a great compassion 
And the rifted heart divine. 

And so they follow the bugle 
And heed the drumbeat's call, 

But their errand is one of pity — 
They succor the men who fall. 



[54] 



GARRISON LIFE 

I want to go home, wailed the private, 
The sergeant and corporal the same, 
For I'm tired of the camp and the hikin', 
The grub and the rest of the game. 
I'm willing to do all the fighting 
For that is a game two can play ; 
But I want to go home, for me goil's all 
alone, 
An' I want to go home to-day. 

For I've marched 'til me throat was 

a-crackin', 
'Til crazed for the want of a drink, 
I've drilled 'til me back was a-breakin', 
An' I haven't had time to think. 
And I've had me share of policin', 
And guard and I'm tired of me lay ; 
For me goil's all alone, an' I want to go 
home, 
An' I want to go home to-day. 

Do they heed us a-dying in garrison life? 
They say it's the water and such, 
[55] 



GARRISON UtfE 

We think that more apt it's the hiking 
For the life of a private ain't much; 
But we know we can fight if we have to, 
And they won't have to show us the way, 
But me goil's all alone, an* I want to go 
home, 
An* I want to go home to-day. 



[56] 



THE PHILIPPINITIS 

My friend, have you heard of the town of 

Manila, 
On the banks of the Pasig River, 
Where blooms the wait-awhile flower fair, 
And the "some time other" scents the air, 
And the soft-go-easy grow? 
It lies in the Valley of What's-the-use, 
In the province of Let-her-slide. 
That old tired feeling is native there, 
It's the home of the listless I don't care. 
Where the Put-it-off abide. 



[57] 



THE EAST IS A'CALLING 

They say that the East is alluring ; 

The balmy green isles of the sea. 
But with all their wild splendor assuring, 

They have no fascination for me. 

I camped with the boys at Siassi, 
Way down in that sequestered isle, 

Where the garb of a primitive lassie, 
Was naught save a gee string and smile. 

I hiked o'er the hog trails of Jolo, 
In the blistering rays of the suns, 

As the wild savage wielding his bolo, 
Fell beneath the onslaught of our guns. 

With a cartridge belt, rifle and knapsack, 
I tramped through the wooded ravine, 

On a ration of hard tack and bacon, 
And a swig from a rusty canteen. 

In Mindanao island so dreary, 
From Malabang to Hawatian hill, 

Ever faithful though footsore and weary, 
I shouldered my Krag for the drill. 

[58] 



?H£ £AST IS A'CAU<1N£ 

On the outpost when night darkened o'er 
us 

A lone vigil I kept through the rain, 
And watched for the bloodthirsty Moros, 

That prowled through the desolate cayan. 

I have seen the half clad Filipino, 
In his nipa thatched shack in Luzon, 

Dispensing the tuba and bino, 

Amidst our gay laughter and song. 

At eve the brown-hued senoritas, 
Strolled leisurely over the green, 

In hobbles and gaudy camisas, 
Their more loving than handsome 
queens. 

They may say the East is a'calling, 
The picturesque isles of the sea, 

But with all their wild splendor enthralling, 
They have no fascination for me. 



[59] 



TELL YOUR TROUBLES TO 

THE CORPORAL OF THE 

GUARD 

If number one you are walking, 
And to a comrade talking, 
While around the country gawking, 
Keeping neither watch nor ward, 
And an officer unsaluted, 
Swears at you with voice polluted, 

Tell your troubles to the Corporal of 
the Guard. 
If you are at the bridge of Spain, 
And a foreign lady vain — 
While a native with a rein 
Jerks the skinny pony hard, 
When to her aid you'll turn, 

Tell your troubles to the Corporal of 
the Guard. 
If on the Escolta posted, 
And the sun your back has roasted, 
And rebel chieftain boasted 
As he handed you his card — 

[60] 



TSU, YOUR TROUBI<£S TO CORPORAL 

That he soon would clean you out 

And put your Dewey's fleet to rout, 
Tell your troubles to the Corporal of the 
Guard. 

If to the canteen you are sent, 

And your frame with thirst is rent, 

And your spirits drooped and bent, 

And the soldiers and the sailors bottle- 
crazed — 

All are drinking fizzes cool, 

Do not rave and act the fool, 
Tell your troubles to the Corporal of 
Guard. 

If you should a bottle get, 

No matter on which beat, 

Or a morsel sweet to eat, 

In the dreary times so hard; 

You will find a friend to share it — 
Call promptly for the Corporal of the 
Guard. 



[61] 



GENERAL ORDERS OF THE 
KITCHEN POLICE 

My General Orders are: 
i. To take charge of these spuds and all 
gravy in view. 

2. Dish slum in a military manner; 
keeping on the alert and observing all 
meat balls that go within sight or hearing. 

3. To report any private or non-com 
who asks for thirds. 

4. To receive, transmit and obey all 
orders from and allow myself to be re- 
lieved by the Mess Sergeant, first and 
second cooks only. 

5. To quit the coffee only when prop- 
erly relieved. 

6. To repeat all calls for "seconds" from 
the dining room. 

7. To hold conversation with no one 
who asks for onions. 

8. To allow no one to pass the cooks to- 
bacco or booze. 

9. To salute all slum not incased in an 
overcoat. 

[62] 



GENERAL ORDERS OF KITCHEN POLICE 

io. In any case not covered by instruc- 
tions call the first cook. 

ii. In case of fire take out the ashes 
and get a bucket of coal. 

12. Between reveille and retreat turn 
out the cook and the cook's police for all 
objects found in the slum, such as bed- 
bugs, lizards, cockroaches, snakes and 
other insects not on the bill of fare. 

By Opder of General R. U. Hungry : 
Peelem Spud, 
Commanding Kitchen Police Brigade. 

Official : 

O. U. Meatball, 

Major, 3rd Cook Corps, 
Brigade Adjutant. 



[63] 



IS HE A SOREHEAD? 

You've heard of the famous six hundred, 

who at Balaklava fell; 
Who charged like death's avengers straight 

into the mouth of hell. 
But there's deeds unsung, unheard of; 

brave deeds gone by unseen, 
Just listen to the tale of a soldier, told in 

ought thirteen. 

Part of the Colonial Army for duty in the 

Philippine group. 
If I had the gink that sent me I sure would 

make him loop the loop. 
Our valor is tested daily. We fight the 

mosquitos and heat. 
The country is fine for a Gu-Gu, but I long 

for old Market Street. 

The hiking is fine for a soldier, you fill up 

on dust on the road, 
And to eat on a dusty stomach makes you 

feel like any toad. 

[64] 



IS HE A SOREHEAD? 

You may talk of a seven-year enlistment, 
God help me get this one in, 

When you do one on the Archipelago, 
you will never be free from sin. 

They work you from morning till evening. 

They've got you, there's no pulling 

out. 
Can you blame us for drinking, old timer, 

no chance, here's to you, old scout. 
Our troubles may be all imaginary and 

caused by too much sun, 
But how much imagining is called for in 

the war games they play for fun. 

I try to do all they require me, but, God, 

who can do all that? 
The man is not made who can obey all 

orders of a man with a gold cord on 

his hat. 
Some are better than others, they don't 

feel the polish and such, 
But I've learned my lesson — they'll get 

you in dutch. 

[65] 



IS HE A SOREHEAD? 

Don't think for a minute I'm a sorehead 

because I am in for bob, 
My muscles shure got hard in the army; 

I can d ! easy get a job. 

And if some time, in the future, I would 

hate someone to think me a friend, 
I'll advise him to enlist in the army, good 

night, I know that sure is his end. 



[66] 



FUNSTON 

Never any style about him, 

Not imposing on parade, 
Couldn't make him look heroic, 

With no end of golden braid. 
Figure sort o' stout and dumpy, 

Hair and whiskers kind of red, 
But he's always moving forward, 

When there's trouble on ahead. 
Five foot five, of nerve and daring, 

Eyes pale blue, and steely bright, 
Not afraid of man or devil, 

That is Funston in a fight. 

Fighting since he learned to toddle, 

Soldier since he got his growth, 
Knows the Spaniard and the savage, 

For he's fought and licked 'em both. 
Not much figure in the ball room, 

Not much hand at breaking hearts, 
Rotten ringer for Apollo, 

But right thing when something starts; 



FUNSTON 

Just a bunch of brains and muscles, 
But you always feel somehow 

That he'll get what he goes after, 
When he mixes in a row. 

Weyler found out all about him, 

Set a price upon his head; 
Aguinaldo's crafty warriors 

Nearly filled him full of lead. 
Yellow men and yellow fever, 

Tried to cut off his career; 
But since he first hit the war trail, 

He has never slipped a year. 
And the heart of all the nation 

Gives a patriotic throb, 
At the news that Kansas Funston 

Has again gone on the job. 



[68] 



YEAR 2016 IN CHIHUAHUA 

Through the mesquite in old Chihuahua, 

Aimlessly one day I strode, 
Till I chanced upon a figure 

Standing silent in the road. 
Such an odd, ungainly figure ! 

I stopped, then staggered back, 
Thinking it an ancient spirit 

That had wandered from its track. 

A campaign hat was on his head, 

With strap beneath his chin, 
On his legs some battered leggins, 

And his shoes were old and thin. 
On his shoulder was a musket, 

Red with the rust of years, 
Like himself, the whole equipment, 

Seemed to justify my fears. 

"What masquerade is this"? said I, 

Though my breath came quick and short, 

Then he, from force of habit, 
Brought his rifle to a port. 

[69] 



YEAR 20l6 IN CHIHUAHUA 

"Long years ago," he answered, 

In a mild and patient tone, 
"There was trouble in Chihuahua, 

Where Villa used to roam. 

"When I left the States for Mexico, 

With the Regular Cavalry, 
We numbered several thousand, 

Young, healthy, strong and free. 
All the others, — they are sleeping 

On the hillside over there, 
Far from home and loving kindred 

And the native country dear. 

"Perhaps twenty died from sickness, 

Victims of the fever's rage, 
Or amoebic dysentery, 

All the rest, — from ripe old age! 
I'm the last of all those thousands, 

Through this place I still must roam, 
Waiting for expected orders — 

Welcome orders to go HOME." 



[70] 



WITH PERSHING IN 
MEXICO 

When I've served out this enlistment, 

And my time in the Reserves, 

Why, I am going to treat yours truly 

To the treat that he deserves. 

For I am tired chasing Villa, 

In this God-forsaken land, 

When there's nothing much but cactus 

And the useless miles of sand. 

Where the Rio Grande is flowing, 
By El Paso near Fort Bliss, 
There's a little girl worth knowin', 
And she's a'savin' me a kiss. 
Oh, I met her once a'walking, 
With red corals in her hair; 
Where the greasers sit a'talking, 
In the little public square. 

There's real food there; white women 
Most things a man could want; 

[71] 



WITH PERSHING IN MEXICO 

And a pool to go in swimmin' 
And a Chinese restaurant; 
Where, across the hot Chop Suey; 
If you give the Chink a wink, 
He'll produce a little teapot, 
Full of something good to drink. 

Oh, I'm tired of Cactus whiskey, 
That they stop the trucks to sell; 
For one bottle's mighty risky, 
And two starts a man for hell. 
And the first time that I'm able, 
When they hand me my discharge, 
Watch me lean across the table, 
And say: "Bo, give me a drink of 
'large/ " 

s 

So good-bye, Adobe ladies; 

My regards to Uncle Sam; 
Let old Pancho go to Hades; 
Adios to Col. Dublan! ; 
They can't bind me with a lasso, 
Once this little Doughboy's free; 
There's a girl right in El Paso, 
That I'm bound he's going to see. 
[72] 



WITH PERSHING IN MEXICO 

For she's waitin', my Anita; 
In the Plaza, in the Square ; 
Where the little fenced-in fountain 
Throws it's water in the air; 
Where the old pet alligator stays, 
And winks his knowin' eye, i 
And says, "Patience, Senorita," 
He'll be with you by an' by. 



[731 



OLD BALDY 

The "Black Eagle" said, "I think it but fair, 
That I should be ruler of both land and 

air, 
And have all the other birds under my 

reign. 
How great I shall be over such a domain." 

The others protested, saying, "This you 

can't do; 
We'll never submit to a swell-head like 

you. 
Blefore we'll come under your* despotic 

rod, 
We'll fight to the very last drop of our 

blood." 

But the "Black Eagle" answered : "I'll have 

what I wish; 
I'll pay you for suckers, and catch a big 

fish; 
I'll clip your wings off with a big pair of 

shears 
That I have been grinding, the last forty 

years. 

[74] 



OI.D BAI.DY 

"I'll hook my big talons right into your 

breast, 
And get a wild 'Turkey' to help do the 

rest. 
We'll pluck that fine plumage all off from 

your back; 
And you'll find desolation the brand of 

my track." 

And so the fight started. It waxed fierce 

and long; 
And proved the "Black Eagle" unusually 

strong. 
With three years of fighting, he still was 

intact, 
And seemed to be victor — in fight and in 

fact. 

But at this very moment of luck for the 

"Black," 
A venerable eagle flew into his track. 
He was gray, he was bald, he was ancient 

as well; 
And just where he came from, there's no 

use to tell. 

[75] 



OLD BALDY 

This "Bald-headed Eagle" was hailed with 

delight, 
When the other birds saw he was going 

to fight; 
But when they beheld the tactics employed, 
By "Baldy the Great One," they were 

overjoyed. 



For he hooked his curved bill in the top 

of the head 
Of "Old Blackey the Terror," then quietly 

said: 
"Just watch my talons clip up to his throat. 
With one still free, I will pick this old 

bloat." 



The struggle was fierce, and the feathers 

flew high; 
The "Black One's" fine plumage came off 

rapidly ; 
"Old Baldy's" quick work, and to make 

good his word, 
Left nary a feather stick on the Black bird. 

[76] 



OLD BALDY 

The fight at last ended ; the "Black" gave it 

up, 
With "Baldy" victorious, awarded the cup; 
But the "Black One" was stripped of all 

honor and fame. 
Has a place in this world with a dishonored 
name. 

It may be a fable, but history records 

This defeat of the "Fowl of Great Boast- 
ing Words." 

How the "Prussian Black Eagle" that 
thought he could scratch, 

Found in "Old Baldy" far more than his 
match. 



[771 



"KAISER BILL" 

There's a Guy across the Sea, 
And the "Devil's own" is he. 

Death ! Destruction ! Misery ! 
That's the Kaiser. 

Don't you fancy he's a fool. 

Satan ne'er had such a tool — 

Whether demon, fiend or ghoul 
As the Kaiser. 

At the bottom of the ocean 
Lie the victims of his notion. 
Bathes in human blood for lotion 

Does the Kaiser. 
While his Teuton Choir sings, 
In the military rings, 
Of the "Divine Right of Kings." 

Kaiser Bill. 

Kinder erst, und den de vimmen — 
Shood dem ub vile dey is schwimmen, 
Den you gif der men a trimmen, 
Kaiser Bill. 

[78] 



"kaiser biu," 



For der voorlt must pe mine own, 
So I'll pe der King alone, 
Mit a unifersal throne 
Kaiser Bill. 

But we'll toss you out the tip, 
(Though the censor seal the lip) 
That he'll soon be "on the hip" — 

Will the Kaiser. 
For his submarines are sinking, 
And his men in trenches, stinking, 
While the Western world is linking 

'Gainst the Kaiser. 

He'll be picked up in a basket, 
With a U-Boat for a casket, 
And a name plate, if he ask it. 

"KAISER BILL." 
Then "submerge" in kerosene, 
Kept in memory ever green 
As the profligate, obscene 

Kaiser Bill. 



[79] 



THE RAW RECRUIT 

Ses Corporal Madden to Private McFad- 
den: 
Be gob, ye're a bad 'un; 
Now turn out your toes; 
Yer belt is unhookit 
Yer cap is on crookit 
Ye may not be dhrunk, 
But be jabers, ye look it; 
Wan-two ! Wan-two ! 
Ye monkey faced devil, I'll jolly ye 
through ! 

Wan-two! Time! Mark! 
Ye march like the aigle in Cintheral Park. 

Ses Corporal Madden to Private McFad- 
den: 
A saint it ud sadden 
To dhrill such a mug; 
Eyes front ! ye baboon ye ! 
Chin up ! ye gossoon, ye ! 
Ye've jaws like a goat — 

[80] 



the raw recruit 

Halt! ye leather lipped loon, ye! 

Wan-two ! Wan-two ! 
Ye whiskered orang-outang, I'll fix you ! 

Wan-two ! Time ! Mark ! 
Ye've eyes like a bat, can ye see in the 

dark? 

Ses Corporal Madden to Private McFad- 
den: 
Yer figger wants padd'n — 
Sure man, yeVe no shape; 
Behind ye yer shoulders 
Stick out like two boulders; 
Yer shins are as thin 
As a pair of penholders; 
Wan-two ! Wan-two ! . 
Yer belly belongs on yer back, ye Jew! 

Wan-two ! Time ! Mark ! 
I'm as dry as a dog — I can't spake but I 
bark! 



[81] 



SERVING IN TEXAS 

To old Satan Texas was given 

By the Lord who lives in Heaven, 
And the Devil quoth "Fve got what's 
needed 
To make a good Hell," and he succeeded. 
He put sharp thorns all over the trees, 
And mixed up sand with millions of 
fleas; 
He scattered tarantulas along the roads, 
Puts thorns on cactus, and horns on 
toads. 
He lengthened the horns of the Texas 
steers, 
And put an addition to the rabbit's ears ; 
He put a little devil in the bronco steed, 

And poisoned the feet of the centipede. 
The rattlesnake bites, the scorpion stings, 
The mosquitos delight with their buz- 
zing wings; 
The sand burs prevail, and so do the ants, 
And those who sit down, need half-soles 
in their pants. 

[82] 



SERVING IN TEXAS 

The heat in the summer is one hundred 
and ten, 
Too hot for the Devil and too hot for 
the men; 
The wild boar roams thru the back chap- 
arral, 
'Tis a hell of a place that he picked 
for a hell. 



[83] 



O'REILLY'S GONE TO HELL 

O'Reilly was a soldier man, the pride of 

Battery "B." 
In all the blooming regiment no better man 

than he; 
The ranking duty Non Com., he knew his 

business well, 
But since he's tumbled down the pole, 

O'Reilly's gone to Hell. 

Chorus : 

O'Reilly's gone to Hell, since down the 
pole he fell. 

They drank up all the bug juice the whis- 
key man would sell. 

They ran him in the mill. They've got him 
in there still. 

His bob tail's coming back by mail, 
O'Reilly's gone to Hell. 



O'Reilly hit the bottle after six years up 

the pole, 
He blew himself at Casey's place and then 

went in the hole, 

[84] 



0REIU,YS GONE: TO Hthh 

He drank with all the rookies and saved 

his face as well. 
The whole outfit is on the bum, O'Reilly's 

gone to Hell. 

Chorus : 

3- 
O'Reilly swiped a blanket and shoved it 

up I hear; 
He shoved it for a dollar and invested that 

in beer, 
He licked a coffee cooler because he said 

he'd tell, 
He's ten days absent without leave, 

O'Reilly's gone to Hell. 

Chorus : 

4- 
They'll try him by Court Martial, he'll 

never get a chance 
To tell them how his mother died or some 

such song and dance. 
He'll soon be in Company "Q" a-sleeping 

in a cell 
A big red "P" stamped on his back, 

O'Reilly's gone to Hell. 
[85] 



ON THE "BORDER" 

This is the Land 
That God forgot. 

Arizona. 
This is the land 
That the Devil be-got. 

Arizona. 
In respects, it's possibly 
Better than Hell, 

In Naco. 
Hot air, mixed 
With sulphur smell, 

In Naco. 
There every acre 
Is desert sand, 
To take the place 
Of the "Brim-stone" Land. 

In Hell. 
Also, we have the Prickley-pear, 

In Naco. 
Sage-brush and cacti 

That might compare 
To pitch-forks. 

[86] 



ON TH3 "BORDER" 



But should you ask me 
Where I'd dwell — 
Naco, or in that place below- 
Just three words 
From my mouth would flow : 

"Me for Hell." 
Conditions are settled 
Down in Hell; 
While on the Border, 
You never can tell. 
Arizona ! 

Hell, yes! 
No watchful waiting, 
No peace at a price, 

Like Naco. 
The Devil's policy 
Is firm and concise, 

In Hell. 
No friendly raids, 
Nor Mexican strife; 

Like Naco. 
One's die is cast: 
To boil for Life, 

In Hell. 

[873 



on the "border" 



In case of trouble, 
Of any kind, — 

The Devil acts 
Without change of mind. 

Naco — Hell. 
Think of the wonderful 
Peace Sublime, 

In Hell. 
I only wish 
That peace were mine. 



[88] 



ROUTINE 

(From a Marine's Diary.) 

5 :05 A. M. — FIRST CALL 

I heard the First Call sound, and then- 
Just yawned and went to sleep again. 

5 :iO A. M. — REVEILLE 

At Reveille I shook the dope, 

Broke out a towel and a hunk of soap. 

5 !20 A. M. — ROLL CALL 

My name rang out upon the air; 

I hollered, "Here," for I was "there." 

5 125 A. M. — SETTING-UP EXERCISE 

Took exercise, without a rest; 

I like the Breathing Movement best. 

5:45 a. m. — CHOW 

Oh, what a difference breakfast makes ! 
'Twas Punk and Java, Dog and Cakes. 

[89] 



ROUTINE) 
6:iO A. M. — FIRST CALL FOR DRILL 

First call for Drill reminded me — 
I'll try the rear rank — "number three." 

6:20 A. M. DRILL 

Street Riot Drill and Company square; 
I nearly went up in the air. 

7:20 A. M. — RECALL FROM DRILL 

Recall was music to my ears; 
I hadn't felt so tired for years. 

8 :oo a. m. — COLORS 

The Guard turned out for Uncle Sam 
And handed him the "Grand Salaam." 

8 IIO A. M. — SICK CALL 

One fellow went to show his corn 
For there's a Hike to-morrow morn. 

8:20 A. M. — FIRST CALL FOR TROOP 

I shaved and washed, then cleaned the Gat, 
And had ten minutes left at that. 

[90] 



routine; 

8:30 A. M. — TROOP 

The Captain sized us up for fair, 
But no kick comin' anywhere. 

8:45 A. M. — GUARD MOUNT 

Guard Mount, my name wasn't booked ; 
How is it I was overlooked? 

RESPITE 

No more calls to answer now 
'Til I hear them holler, "Chow" 

For this is my easy day: 

Guess I rate it anyway. 

12:00 N — CHOW — LIBERTY 

Chow was the regular menu, 
Spuds et cetera — carabao. 

I heard "Liberty" when it went 

But I didn't have a cent. 

1 :oo p. m. — POLICE 

Glad I have no work today; 
I'll turn in and hit the hay. 
[9i] 



ROUTINE 
AFTERNOON — NO CALLS 

Woke up promptly, half past two; 
Walked around Olongapo. 

Came in — played a checker game; 
Wrote a letter to my dame. 

5 :oo p. m. — chow 

Supper surely was some class ! 
Steak and Onions — Apple "sass." 

6:00 p. m. — COLORS 

Six o'clock when colors went; 
Guard turned out and gave "present. 5 

8:30 p. m. — TATTOO 

Came in early, took a shower, 
Read a book for half an hour. 

9:15 P. M. CALL TO QUARTERS 

Let down my Mosquito net — 
Puffed a Durham Cigarette. 

TAPS — P. M. 

Safely in my bunk I curled 

And was soon — dead to the World. 

[92] 



THAT UNIFORM 

'Tis strange, but yet 'tis true, we see 
Sane men who seem to think that we, 
Who wear the blue, are not the same 
As other men. We have a name 
Scarce thought of with respect; 'tis used 
To frighten children, and abused 
By those who only wish to show 
A few of the many things they don't know. 

We read "the soldiers came to town 

And raised particular ," and so on 

down 
A column or more of such vile stuff; 
'Twould make us all cry "Hold ! Enough !" 
You see, there's scarcely anything 
To write about. While these things sting, 
What's that to us ? We may lose by it ; 
But the public's fed, ye gods, the diet. 

An old saw, which, perhaps, e'en you 
Have heard, and some thought true, 
Seems to have been forgotten, quite, 
Or else we do not think it right. 

[93] 



THAT UNIFORM 

Our fathers used to think that way, 

But we are wiser ( ?) in our day. 

Try to remember it, if you can, 

Tis this: "The clothes don't make the 



Don't turn the soldier down. You may, 
For aught you know, or others say, 
Be entertaining, unawares, 
An angel; and, if not, who cares? 
For, be he good, bad, weak or strong, 
'Mid summer's sun or winter's storm, 
You call on him to right your wrong, 
Altho he wears a uniform. 



[94] 



IN THE COLD GREY DAWN 
OF THE MORNING AFTER 

Bring me a dry Martini, waiter, 
Chase in something that's wet, 

I was out to a clam bake yesterday, 
And I haven't got over it yet. 

Throw me a pleasant look, waiter, 
Smile at me pretty, don't frown, 

And pour some glue on my breakfast 
So I can keep it down. 

I hear they have discovered the pole, waiter, 

I wish I had it here now, 
They can't come any too cold for me 

To put on my aching brow. 

Many a schooner was wrecked last night, 
And the waves ran mountain high. 

Personally, I was soused to the gills, 
But today I'm awfully dry. 

[95] 



in the: cou> grey dawn 

It was a terrible night at sea, waiter, 
And many are missing, I think, 

But as near as I can remember 
I never missed a drink. 

The one in blue got my purse, waiter, 
Her side-kick got my clock, 

I don't want to know what time it is, 
Please lead me down to the dock. 

Lead me down to the dock, waiter, 
For a watery grave I pine. 

The place for a man that is pickled 
Is over my head in brine. 

Tell them in Olongapo, 

I died as a hero should, 
Up to the neck, in cold, cold suds 

Guaranteed drawn from the wood. 



I'd like to leave you a gift, waiter, 
Just to remember me by 

And to show you that I'm not tight, 
You can have my piece of pie. 

[96] 



IN TH£ COLD GREY DAWN 

And after I sink in the water, waiter, 
You'll do me a favor, I hope. 

Tell them, if I blow up bubbles 
It wasn't from eating soap. 



[97] 



THE OTHER SIDE OF THE 
POSTER 

They told me that the Army was a joy for 
evermore ; 
They told me of the pleasures I'd have 
in it by the score ; 
They told me of its comforts and the jolly 
life I'd lead, 
But by thunder they have fooled me and 
I'm sorrowful indeed — 
I ever joined the Army. 



They told me of the polished boots and the 
buttons bright I'd wear, 
And of the splendid things I'd find upon 
the bill-of-fare; 
But never a word they told me in the fine 
recruiting shop, 
Of hoeing weeds upon the roads, or haul- 
ing out the slops — 

When I joined the Army. 

[98] 



THE OTHER SIDE OP THE POSTER 

They told me of the pleasant hours, away 
from every care, 
I could spend when not on duty, in town 
or anywhere; 
But a thing they never told me is the pun- 
ishment they'd mete 
Out to a luckless rookie who went absent 
from retreat — 

In Uncle Samuel's Army. 



They told me of the canteen, where good 
lager beer is sold, 
And of the fine post hospital, that cures 
all kinds of colds ; 
But a hint about the guard-house they never 
to me gave, 
That skeleton they kept hidden as though 
buried in a grave — 

Until I joined the Army. 

They showed me good looking chromos of 
good looking soldier men, 
With little V's upon their sleeves and 
hats they shone like tin ; 
[99] 



the other side of the poster 

But there is one uncanny picture they never 
to me showed 
Of a soldier with a knapsack, and he hit- 
ting up the road — 
In the U. S. Army. 

They told me of the nice soft bunk, made 
out of woven wire, 
Where I could lay my carcass, whenever 
my bones would tire ; 
But a whisper of the pick and shovel was 
never to me told, 
So I'm pondering o'er my contract, and 
I think I was sold — 
When I came into Uncle's Army. 

They told me of the non-coms, who knew 
a soldier's worth, 
Who made the Army jolly, a place of 
endless mirth; 
But not a word they told me of the amount 
of beer I'd buy, 
Just to keep a "stand in" with those that 
rank up high — 

In Sammy's splendid Army, 
[ioo] 



THE OTHER SIDE) OF THE POSTER 

They told me of the bill-of-fare that 
changed with every day, 
And when landed in the Army for thirty 
years I'd stay; 
But not a word they told me (No wonder 
they were mum), 
About the stuff they feed us, commonly 
known as "Slum" — 

In our conquering Army. 

It is hinted that experience of all others is 
the school, 
Where common sense alone is learned, 
by him that plays the fool; 
And though I hate the medicine, I must 
take it with a will, 
And keep convincing myself, it does me 
good — 

It's time to leave the Army. 



[IOI] 



ARMY FEVER 

When your first hitch is over, and you have 

cashed your finals few, 
And a breakfast and a boat ride are all 

that's left for you, 
And you toy with your collar as you don 

your suit of "citz," 
While your bunkie, sitting near you, has 

the bluest kind of fits ; 
You a-bubbling over with pleasure at the 

thoughts of going out; 
The friends at home will welcome you, of 

that there's not a doubt; 
And it never seems to strike you that you 

have made a beaten track, 
In these years you've been a soldier — that 

you might come back. 
So you hasten out as boat call goes — last 

call you have to stand — 
And you wave farewell to comrades as you 

push away from land. 
First call for drill is sounding from the 

bugler's throat of gold, 
But you are free — "don't have to stand no 

drill in heat or cold." 
[102] 



ARMY F£V£R 

Altho' you get to wondering as things fade 
from sight, 

If drilling really was so bad as walking 
post at night. 

You think, of course, when first discharged, 
one feels just sort of sad ; 

But it's Army fever symptoms — And you've 
got 'em bad. 

You're in business on the outside, and 
you're making good, it seems ; 

But the bugle keeps a-calling, and a-calling 
through your dreams. 

Then some day you meet a soldier on a fur- 
lough for a week; 

And you think it only friendly to go up to 
him and speak; 

And you find you knew his brother, or his 
cousin, or his friend, 

And your job upon the outside has found a 
sudden end; 

For a longing fierce comes over you, and 
you cannot resist — 

It's the crisis of the fever — and you re- 
enlist. 

[103] 



ONE TO THE ARMY BEAN 

I've eaten funny dishes on Luzon's tropical 
shore, 
I've eaten Japan's bamboo shoots and 
oysters by the score. 
Of caviar I've had my share, I love ancho- 
vies, too, 
And way down in old Mindanao I've eat- 
en carabao ; 
Of Johnny Bull's old rare roast I nearly 
got the gout, 
And with chums at Heidelberg I dined 
on sauerkraut; 
In China I have eaten native rice and 
sipped their famous teas ; 
In Naples I, 'long with the rest, ate maca- 
roni and cheese; 
In Cuba where all things go slow, manafia's 

their one wish ; 
I dined on things that had no names, but 

tasted strong with fish. 
In Mexico the chili burnt the coating off 
my tongue; 

[104] 



0N£ TO TH^ army bean 

And with Irish landlord I dined on pigs 

quite young, 
Yet you may have your dishes that is 

served to kings and queens, 
But I am happy and contented with a dish 

of Army Beans. 



[ioS] 



LITTLE THINGS 

Little drops of water, 
Little grains of sand 

Make the mighty ocean 
And the desert land. 

Little hours of drilling, 
Little "rifle shoots" 

Make efficient soldiers 
Out of raw recruits. 

Little hours some spend in 

Breaking liberty, 
Off amount to something 

More than E. P. D. 

Little words of kindness, 
When you spare a few, 

Sound all right to some one; 
Do they not to you? 



[106] 



SING-A-SONG-A-SIXPENCE 

Sing-a-song-a-sixpence 

Every-body dry — 
Half-a-dozen Privates 

Opening some rye. 

When the rye was opened 
The Bucks began to sing : 

Every blessed one of them 
Feeling like a king. 

The Sergeant at the Guard-house 
Saw them walking straight — 

Marked them "Clean and Sober," 
When they passed the gate. 

But, when Taps was over, 

They sang and danced a jig, 

Along came a Corporal 

And slammed them in the Brig. 



[io?] 



QUEEN OF MAY 

If you wake, why, call me early — call me 
early, won't you, bunk ? 
The captain says I'll be a non-com., if I 
don't get on a drunk. 
Then some day I'll be a sergeant with three 
stripes upon my arm, 
Zig zag, like the old rail fences on Dad 
Posey's Country farm. 
Call me early, though I'm dreaming, wake 
me up that I may see 
How the sun that sinks in grandeur rises 
in obscurity. 
I've been a private, bunkie, such as privates 
seldom are, 
Borne my share of public censure, let it 
heal without a scar. 
Till upon the fair escutcheon of my name 
and humble rank 
Captain says he'll add the title and a 
stripe on either flank. 
Then I'll be a non-com., bunkie, wake me 
up that I may see 
My own glory bubble appearing, hear it 
burst at reveille. 
[108] 



QU33N OF MAY 

Wake me early from my slumbers, hence- 
forth I would early rise, 
Health and wealth are common virtues — 
dawn will brand me both, and wise. 
Bunkie, I'll be boss to-morrow, uniformed 
in blue and white, 
Knew I'd get it, if the captain only did 
what's square and right. 
But I will not chastise the comrades who 
may doubt my word is law, 
I'll be easy with them, bunkie, patient, 'tho 
they feel no awe. 
Bunkie, I'm growing sleepy; wake me 
when the morning breaks; 
For upon the track of merit, I will land 
the non-com. stakes. 
Let me hear the joyful clamor when I 
wake from pleasant dreams 
That the fellows rise when greeting a non- 
com., who is what he seems. 
Wake me early, bunkie, comrade, tell the 
fellows who I am, 
Not forgetting all the favors I will do you 
when I can. 

[109] 



QU£EN 0£ MAY 

Tell them that I wouldn't have it, if it 
sacrificed their love, 
Tell them that I'm the same as ever, though 
they think me far above. 
Bunkie, I have drcimed so often of the 
buff that I shall wear, 
That I feel the honor greater than a man 
like me can bear. 
Long I've waited; long I've cherished 

thoughts of how I'd look and feel 
When the captain said: Howard, here's 
a stripe to aid your zeal. 
Then I'd be a non-com., bunkies, then I'd 

write to dad and say, 
Modest-like: "A Corporal's greetings to 
his folks so far away !" 



[no] 



A YOUNG ROOKIE'S 
LAMENT 

As I sit in the gleam of the camp fire, 

'Neath the Oriental skies, 

In fancy I picture the homeland shore 

And a town I highly prize; 

It's Gardner, dear old Gardner, 

A town so dear to me, 

But I'm many miles away 

Across an endless sea. 

I at the age of 17 was — 
Fickle as a clam 
I took a train for Fitchburg 
And joined old Uncle Sam. 
They sent me on to Slocum, 
And filled me up on beans. 
They made me take a rifle 
And a pair of khaki jeans. 

They sent me to the Philippines, 
We call it no man's land. 
We never see a flake of snow, 
We bake our eggs in sand, 
[in] 



A YOUNG ROOKIES LAMENT 

We hike o'er burning mountains 
'Til it drives us near insane, 
We pitch our camp in a rice field 
In a storm of drizzling rain. 

At night we walk our outpost 

With a great big heavy gun 

And 90 Dum-Dum bullets 

To make the Moros run. 

They're accurate as a weasel, 

And, boys, they never fan, 

You have to keep your ears pricked up, 

For they'll get you if they can. 

Now, boys, you may think Gardner slow, 

But that notion you'll destroy 

If you ever hold your hand up 

To be a soldier boy. 

You have no dear old Mother. 

To mend your tattered pants, 

When you stick yourself with a needle, 

With rage you'll fairly prance. 

So, boys, I found my big mistake, 
I was altogether wrong, 

[112] 



A YOUNG ROOKIS S LAMENT 

And that's the simple reason 

I sing this little song. 

So take a piece of fool's advice, 

And never run away, 

Just stay in dear old Gardner 

Where life is bright and gay. 



["3] 



DANNY DEEVER BALLAD 

"Where're all the soldiers goin' to?" asked 

Files-on-Parade, 
"What are they all a-goin' to do ?" the Color 

Sergeant said; 
"I dunno where they're goin' to," said 

Files-on-Parade, 
"I dunno what they're goin' to do," the 

Color Sergeant said. 
For they're goin' back towards U. S. A. 

and leave the Philippines, 
They're tirin' of the Islands and the Army 

"pork and beans," 
That "single time," and "two per mile" — 

they all know what that means — 
So now they're all a'goin' to leave the 

Army. 

"Where is the 'Doughboy' goin' to?" asked 

Files-on-Parade, 
"And what is he a-goin' to do?" the Color 

Sergeant said; 

[114] 



DANNY DDKVDR BAI,I,AD 

"Back to his farm! Back to his farm!" 

said Files-on-Parade, 
"Behind the plow ! Behind the plow," the 

£olor Sergeant said. 
No hiking o'er rice paddies, — but furrowed 

fields of corn, 
To go to bed real early and get up in the 

morn', 
To be his own "K. O." once more, in the 

country where he's born, 
So soon he'll be a-quittin' of the Army. 



"Where is the Trooper goin' to?" asked 

Files-on-Parade, 
"And what is he a-goin' to do?" the Color 

Sergeant said; 
"Perhaps he'll pack an Army mule," said 

Files-on-Parade, 
"Or go out West to 'cow-boy,' " the Color 

Sergeant said. 
He's fond of his "caballo," and he loves his 

old "outfit," 
And if they'd change those Army bills, he 

wouldn't ever quit, 

[us] 



DANNY DENVER BAI,I,AD 

But Chairman Hay, and others, have forced 

him into it. 
So soon he'll be discharged from out the 

Army. 

"Where is the 'Gunner' goin' to?" asked 

Files-on-Parade, 
"And what is he a-goin' to do?" the Color 

Sergeant said; 
"He's goin' to be a 'Jackie,' " said Files-on- 
Parade, 
"A sailor lad a'fore the mast," the Color 

Sergeant said. 
For he'd rather try the Navy, and draw a 

sailor's pay, 
Than "single-time" in Jolo with three long 

years to stay, 
Where there ain't no "two-cent mileage," 

while a'cruisin' across the Bay, 
So now he'll soon be quittin' of the Army. 

"Where is the Army goin' to?" said Files- 
on-Parade, 

"And what is it a'goin' to do?" the Color 
Sergeant said; 

[116] 



DANNY DE£V£R BAIUD 

"The boys will soon have done their time," 

said Files-on-Parade, 
"And few of 'em will 'hitch' again," the 

Color Sergeant said. 
For the Transports bring one "rookie" to 

take the place of ten, 
"Old Timers," who are goin' home, and 

won't "hitch" up again, 
And they'll have a Rookie Army — instead 

of Soldier Men. 
For they're breakin' up the Army in the 

Islands. 



["7] 



L 



PUZZY LAPPINS 

When a crude and hopeful rookie 
To the Philippines I came 
To hike the glorious pathway 
On to shoulder straps and fame, 
I thought of mother's counsel, 
And I scorned the drunkard's cup, 
But I landed on the sick report, 
And that's what did me up. 

"You've been drinking," said the surgeon, 
"You've been drinking on the sly. 
You've been disobeying orders; 
'Tis useless to deny. 
Let me tell you on the Q. T. 
That I am going to mark you 'duty' 
You've been drinking unboiled water 
I can read it in your eye." 

I've a bunkie who is a restless dog, 
And he doesn't care a fig, 
So they marched him to the guard-house 
And they made him do fatigue. 
[118] 



PUZZY I.APPINS 

He's a gambling ramblin' rascal, 
An all around jovial sport. 
They had him up the other day 
Before a summary court. 

"Charged with drinking," says the captain, 
And he seemed to "wink an eye." 
"For you could not stand temptation 
And you drank when you was dry. 
You are grinning, Private Brady, 
And you will draw five less next pay-day, 
And for drinking unboiled water 
Don't forget I cinched you high." 

Since old Pharoah followed Moses, 
And was followed by the sea, 
Sergeant Potter's been a soldier 
And 'til Gabriel's reveille 
He'll be answering to the bugle call 
At sunset, noon, and morn, 
But he's got the Dengue fever, 
And it makes him flush and worn. 

"You've been drinking unboiled water/' 
Says the captain, "that is why." 

["9] 



PUZZY I.APPINS 

"No, the captain is mistaken," 

Says the sergeant with a sigh. 

"I never do drink water, 

Though maybe at times I aught'er; 

I never do drink water 

When 'John Stink' and Tuba's nigh." 

The band it played a mournful tune ; 

The soldiers crowd around 

As a comrade wrapped in Glory's flag 

Is lowered in the ground. 

There are three resounding volleys, 

Taps die out in tender tones 

And we're marching to the quick step 

From the grave of Corporal Jones. 

"It was drinking," says the captain 

As a tear was in his eye. 

"It was all through drinking water 

That the corporal came to die. 

'Twas the unboiled water that killed him, 

With germs and things it filled him 

But now he is drinking from the Jordan 

Where we'll join him by and by." 

[I20] 



A CYNIC'S VIEW OF ARMY 
LIFE 

Once I was a farmer boy, a tiller of the 
soil, 

I liked the work — I never was a chap to 
shirk from toil. 

But I thought I'd choose a broader life (I 
must have been an ass). 

I took on in the Army — and now I'm cut- 
ting grass. 

I thought my farm life narrow, for there 

my simple work 
Was planting things and tending them, and 

this I did not shirk. 
I'd charge of all the horses, too, and 

handled them first class, 
But since I joined the Army, I am simply 

cutting grass. 

I get up in the morning to the sound of 

martial strain. 
The sergeant says : "Go get that scythe 

and sharpen it again. 
[121] 



A CYNIC'S VI£W OF ARMY UF£ 

The grass has grown six inches, men, 

while we have been in bed, 
So hustle, soldiers, hustle — don't let it get 

ahead." 

The Chief of Staff sits up above and won- 
ders "wot fell?" 

The money goes by millions, but the Army 
is a sell. 

We privates, if we dared to, could easy hit 
the mark, 

It's grass that takes up all our time from 
early dawn to dark. 

We all would like to soldier and get pre- 
pared for war; 

It's what we left our happy homes and 
joined the Army for. 

We'd like to learn our duties from "skirm- 
ish drill" to "mass." 

But all we learn with Uncle Sam is grass, 
grass, GRASS! 

I hate the sight of anything that has a color 
green; 

[122] 



a cynic's viKw OF ARMY UF£ 

My disposition's ruined and I have a 

swoolen spleen. 
And when my time to cash in comes, I 

pray a gracious God, 
That I'll be buried out at sea — not placed 

beneath the sod. 



[123] 



THE SONG OF THE SHOVEL 
AND THE PICK 



The Sergeant says : "My gun is rusty, 
And I guess it must be right. 
But you ought to see my pick and shovel; 
They are always shining bright. 



Chorus : 

Farewell, Bunkie, I must leave you, 
And leave you mighty quick 

For I'll be d d if I can soldier 

With a shovel and a pick. 



There is hash that's hot, and hash that's 

cold; 
There's hash that's new and hash that's 

old; 
And Hash that's mixed into skilligbee ; 
But with me they don't agree. 
[124] 



song of the; shoved and the: pick 
Chorus : 

So, Farewell, Bunkie, I must leave you, 
And I leave you with a dash ; 

For I'll be d d if I can soldier 

On Uncle Samuel's corn beef hash. 



[125] 



ARMY SLANG 

B-ache — to complain. 

Beans — the commissary sergeant. 

Bean-shooter — a commissary officer. 

Belly-ache — to complain. 

Black strap — liquid coffee. 

Blind — sentenced by court-martial to for- 
feiture of pay without confinement. 

Bob-Tail — a dishonorable discharge, or a 
discharge without honor; to be "bob- 
tailed" — to be discharged or to be given 
a discharge without honor. 

Bone — to study; to try; to cultivate. 

Bone bootlick on — to cultivate the favor of. 

Boots and Saddles — trumpet call. 

Bootlick — to flatter. 

Brig — guard-house. 

Bow-legs — cavalrymen. 

Buck-private — a term sometimes used in 
referring to a private. 

Bucking for Orderly — giving clothing and 
accoutrements extra cleaning so as to 
compete for orderly. 
[127] 



ARMY SLANG 

Bunkie — a soldier who shares the shelter of 
a comrade. 

Bust — to reduce a non-commissioned officer 
to the grade of a private. 

Butcher — the company barber. 

Canned Horse — canned beef. 

Chief — name by which the chief musician 
of the band is usually called by the 
enlisted men. 

Cit — a civilian. 

Cits — civilian clothes. 

C. O. — commanding officer. 

Coffee Cooler — one who seeks easy details 
away from troops; one who is always 
looking for an easy job. 

Cold- feet — fear, lack of courage (to have 
cold feet is to be afraid, to lack cour- 
age). 

Commissaries — groceries. 

Crawl — to admonish. 

Dog-robber — name by which the enlisted 
men call a soldier who works for an 
officer. (An offensive term, the use 
of which generally results in trouble.) 

[128] 



ARMY SLANG 

Dough-boy — infantryman. 

Dough-puncher — the baker. 

Down the Pole — to drink, after having 
stopped. 

Duff — any sweet edible. 

Fatigue — extra work. 

File — a number on the lineal list. 

Fogy — ten percent increase in pay for each 
five years' service. 

Found — to be found deficient or wanting 
in anything, especially an examination. 

French leave — unauthorized absence. Ab- 
sent on French leave — absent without 
authority. 

Goat — junior officer in post, regiment, etc. 

Goaty — awkward, ignorant. 

Guard House Lawyer — a soldier with a 
smattering knowledge of regulations 
and military law; quite loquacious and 
liberal with advice and counsel to men 
in the Guard House or other trouble. 

Hand-Shaker — a soldier who tries to win 
the favor of first sergeant or troop 
commander. 

Hardtack — hardbread, biscuits. 
[129] 



ARMY SLANG 

Hash Mark — enlistment or service stripe, 

worn on sleeve. 
Hike — a march; to hike, to march. 
Hitch — a term for enlistment period. 
Hive — to discover, to catch. 
Hobo — the provost guard. 
Holy Joe — the chaplain. 
Hop — a dance. 
How — form of salutation in drinking, 

meaning "Here's to your health," "My 

regards," etc. 
I. C. — condemned by an inspector. 
Jaw-bone — credit (to get things on "jaw- 
bone," is to buy on credit). 
Jump — to admonish. 
K. O. — the commanding officer. 
Major — name by which the sergeant-major 

is usually called by the enlisted men. 
Mill — Guard-house. 
Mule-skinner — a teamster. 
Non-Com — non-commissioned officer. 
O. D. — the officer of the day. 
Officers Line, or Officers Row— the row of 

houses where the officers and their 

families live. 

[130] 



ARMY SLANG 

Old Issue — an old soldier. 

Old File — an old officer. 

Old Man — the company commander. 

On Official Terms — not to be on speaking 
terms except officially. 

On the Carpet — called before the command- 
ing officer for admonition. 

Openers — cathartic pills. 

Orderly Buckle — a soldier when going on 
guard who strives by extra neatness of 
appearance to be designated as orderly 
for the commanding officer. 

Orderly Room — company office. 

Outfit — one's organization in the army. 

Over-the-Hill — to desert. 

P. — Prisoner. 

Pills — the hospital steward. 

Punk — light bread. 

Q. M. — the quartermaster. 

Q. M. D. — quartermaster's department. 

Ranked-out — to be compelled to vacate by 
a senior, as "to be ranked out of quar- 
ters." 

Red-tape — official formality; that is, the 
close or excessive observance of forms 
[I3i] 



ARMY SLANG 

and routine in the transaction of busi- 
ness. 

Regimental Monkey — the drum major. 

Re-up — to re-enlist at once. 

Rookie — a new recruit. 

Sand-rat — an officer or soldier on duty in 
the rifle pit at target practice. 

Saw-bone — the doctor. 

Shave-tail — a new second lieutenant. So 
called, after the young, unbroken mules 
in the Quartermaster's Department. 

Shoved up — to pawn. 

Shutters — camphor or opium pills. 

Sinkers — dumplings. 

Sky-scout — the chaplain. 

Sky-pilot — the chaplain. 

Slap-jacks — pan cakes. 

Slum — a stew of meat, potatoes and onions, 
mostly potatoes and onions. 

Soap Suds Row — the laundresses' quarters. 

Soldier, to — to soldier, to serve; also to 
shirk. 

Soldiers' One Per Cent — one hundred per 
cent. 

Sow-belly — bacon. 

[132] 



ARMY SI.ANG 

Stars and Stripes — beans. 

Striker — a soldier who works for an officer. 

Take-on — to re-enlist before the expiration 
of three months after discharge. 

The Old Man — term sometimes used by offi- 
cers and soldiers in referring to the 
commanding officer ; sometimes used by 
soldiers in referring to their company 
commander. 

To Take Another Blanket — same as "Take- 
on." 

Top Sergeant — first sergeant. 

Up the Pole — to swear off drinking. 

Yellow-leg — cavalryman. 

Youngster — a young officer (a first or sec- 
ond lieutenant). 

Wagon-soldier — light or field artilleryman. 

Wind-jammer — a trumpeter or bandsman. 

Wood-butcher — company artificer. 



[133] 



ENGLISH ARMY SLANG 

Gravel Crushers — infantry soldiers. 

Poultice Wallahs — Royal Army Medical 
Corps men. 

Doolally Tap — when a soldier becomes men- 
tally unbalanced he is said to have re- 
ceived the "Doolally Tap." "Doolally" 
is a corruption of the name of an In- 
dian town, Deolali. 

Bun Wallah — a soldier who drinks nothing 
stronger than tea, and is in consequence 
supposed to eat voraciously of buns. 

Chips — the regimental pioneer sergeant, 
who is usually a sergeant. 

Lance Jack — a lance-corporal. 

Quarter Bloke — the quartermaster. 

Rookey — a recruit. 

Scrounger — a man with plenty of resource 
in getting what he wants. 

Yob — one who is easily fooled. 

Bobygee — a soldier cook. In India a native 
one. 

Baggies — sailors in the Navy. 
[134] 



ENGLISH ARMY SLANG 

Badg-y — an enlisted boy. 

Long- faced Chum — a cavalryman's term for 
his horse. 

Root-y — bread. 

Slingers — a meal of bread and tea. 

Muckin — butter. 

Bully Beef — the tinned meat ration. 

Lamping — eating heartily. 

C. B. — confined to barracks. 

Chucking a Dummy — when a man faints 
on parade he is said to "have chucked 
a dummy." 

Clink or Mush — the guard room. 

Brief, Cheque or Ticket — discharge docu- 
ments. 

Dock — a military hospital. 

Swinging the Lead — the equivalent of "tell- 
ing the tale." 

Weighed off — when a soldier has been 
awarded punishment for an offense he 
is said to have been "Weighed off." 

High Jump — an appearance before the C. 
O. to answer a charge of breaking 
regulations. 

Lost His Number — a man is said to have 

[135] 



ENGLISH ARMY SLANG 

"lost his (regimental) number" when 
he is reported for any offense. It is 
"lost" because it is placed on the re- 
port sheet. 

Stir — imprisonment in a detention bar- 
racks. 

Chancing His Arm — committing an offence 
in expectation that it will not be dis- 
covered. A N. C. O. is said to be 
"chancing his arm" because he may be 
deprived of his stripes. 

Jankers — defaulter's drill. 

Dog's Leg — the first stripe received on pro- 
motion. 

Bundook — a rifle. 

Bobtack — powder mixed into a paste to 
clean buttons and brass work on equip- 
ment. 

Muck-in — share in. 

Square-Pushing — courting. Your best 
boots, cap, etc., are called square-push- 
ing boots, etc. 

Square-bit — your best girl. 

Atcha — all right. 

Blighty — home. 

[136] 



WORDS TO THE ARMY 
TRUMPET CALLS 

Reveille : 

I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I can't 

get 'em up in the morning ; 
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up,, I can't 
get 'em up at all ; 

Corp'rals worse than the privates ; 
Sergeants worse than the corpo- 
rals; 
Lieutenants worse than the sergeants, 

And the capt'n's the worst of all. 

Chorus — 
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, etc. 
Mess Call: 

Soup-y, soup-y soup, 

Without a single bean. 
Pork-y, pork-y, pork, 

Without a streak of lean ; 
Coffee, Coffee, Coffee, 
Without any cream! 
(Or, the weakest ever seen!) 
[137] 



WORDS TO TH£ ARMY TRUMPET CAU.S 

Sick Call: 

Come and get your quinine, come and get 

your pills, 
Oh ! come and get your quinine, come and 

get your pills. 

Stable Call: 

Come all who are able and go to the stable, 
And water your horses and give 'em some 
corn; 
For if you don't do it, the Col'nel will know 
it, 
And then you will rue it, sure as you're 
born. 



Taps 



Fades the light; 
And afar 
Goeth day, 
Cometh night; 
And a star 
Leadeth all, 
Speedeth all 
To their rest. 



Love, good night. 
When the day 
Must thou go 
And the night 
Day is done 
Leave me so? 
Fare thee well; 
Night is on. 

[138] 



WORDS TO TH£ ARMY TRUMPET CALLS 

Another Version. 
When your last 
Day is past, 
From afar 
Some bright star 
O'er your grave 
Watch will keep, 
While you sleep 
With the brave. 



[139] 



FIRST AID IN CASE OF 
ACCIDENTS 

The following hints are only intended as 
a reminder to assist you when in doubt. 

To Stop Bleeding. — Place a pad of clean 
cloth on the wound and bandage firmly. 
Raise the part affected. If raising the limbs 
or applying the pad does not control the 
bleeding, compress with your two thumbs 
over bone and as near the wound as pos- 
sible. Give no stimulants as long as bleed- 
ing remains uncontrolled. 

Burns and Scalds. — Exclude the part 
from the air at once, by dusting flour on it 
and covering with cotton wool. If there 
is a blister do NOT pick it for 24 hours. 

Soothing applications are Carron Oil, 
Salad Oil, Vaseline, Lard, etc. If there is 
severe shock, give it immediate attention, 
even before attending to the burn or scald. 

Fractures. — The two main classes of 
fractures are simple and compound and the 
first aid treatment you give is to prevent 
[140] 



FIRST AID IN CAS^ OF ACCIDENTS 

the simple fracture from becoming the more 
serious compound fracture, which has a 
wound caused by the jagged end of the 
broken bone. 

Attend to the patient on the spot, and fix 
the injured limb, at once, by splints and 
bandages. Use great gentleness. 

If there is a wound, cleanse it and ap- 
ply antiseptic dressing before putting limb 
in splints. 

Disturb the limb as little as possible and 
make the patient comfortable until arrival 
of doctor. 

Snake Bites. — Tie something tightly 
around the limb, between the wound and 
the heart. Give patient a good dose of 
brandy or some other spirit. 

Encourage the bleeding by squeezing the 
bitten part and bathe with warm water. If 
breathing is bad, use artificial respiration. 

Poisons. — In the first place endeavor to 
find out the poison. If you cannot, and 
there are no stains about mouth or lips and 
no burning sensation in mouth and throat, 
give an emetic or tickle throat to make pa- 
[141] 



FIRST AID IN CAS£ OF ACCIDENTS 

tient vomit. Emetics are: three-teaspoon- 
f uls of mustard in pint of tepid water ; salt 
and water, two tablespoon f uls to pint of 
warm water. (See First Aid for Poison- 
ing.) 

When there are stains, etc., give cream, 
white of eggs, olive or linseed oil (no oil 
with phosphorus poisoning). Antidotes to 
follow. 

Grit in the Eye. — Do not rub the in- 
jured eye. By rubbing the other eye you 
will bring tears, which may wash the grit 
out. If not, roll back the upper eyelid over 
a match or pencil, and remove the grit with 
the corner of your handkerchief or small 
camel hair brush. 

If lime in eye, wash out at once with 
water, then drop olive or castor oil between 
the lids. 

Do not attempt to remove anything deep- 
ly imbedded — drop in olive oil and bandage. 

Fainting. — The patient is very faint and 
partially or completely unconscious. Pulse 
is weak and rapid and breathing quickened. 
No convulsions. 

[142] 



FIRST AID IN CASE OF ACCIDENTS 

Place the patient in a lying position with 
the head lower than the rest of the body. 
Loosen his clothing at neck and chest. Give 
patient plenty of fresh air. Sprinkle face 
and chest with cold water and apply smell- 
ing salts to nose. Rub the limbs toward 
body. Give stimulant when patient is able 
to swallow. 

Sprains. — A sprain is the tearing of the 
ligaments or capsule of a joint and burst- 
ing of small blood vessels, and swelling. 

Apply cold water dressings as long as 
they give comfort, and afterwards apply 
hot fomentations. Rest the part in an easy 
position. If movement of limb be essen- 
tial, bandage it tightly. If in doubt, treat 
as a fracture. 



[143] 



* FRENCH MONEY 

5 centimes (one sou) = i cent 

25 " = 5 cents 

50 " = 10 " 

1 franc = 20 " 

2 " =40 " 

5 " = 1 dollar 

ENGLISH MONEY 

Half Penny — 1 cent 

One " = 2 cents 

Three Pence = 6 " 

Six " =12 " 

One Shilling =24 " 

Two " =48 " 

Half a Crown 

or 
Two Shillings Six Pence .... = 60 " 

Five Shillings = $1.20 

Ten " = 2.40 

1 Pound = 4.80 

* French currency has depreciated since the 
war about 10 per cent, so that ten per cent, de- 
duction should be made for accurate reckoning. 

[144] 



r 



